


Entropy

by Ethereal_Red



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: At least in the background - Freeform, Gen, Kind of a class stories continuation, Kind of a fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Red/pseuds/Ethereal_Red
Summary: A Knight of Zakuul, framed for the murder of the Eternal Emperor, is rescued from carbonite by strangers and taken away from everything he's ever known. With Arcann on the throne and his former friends after his life, he must rely on unexpected allies as he struggles to prove his innocence while upholding the oaths he swore to protect his home.The Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic chafe after years of occupation, their heroes forgotten... but not yet gone.  As rumors of rebellion spread throughout the galaxy and the Force echoes with a dead emperor's power, eight battle-weary individuals find their paths drawn towards Wild Space.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If the fic summary and the second half of this first chapter seems familiar, it's because I originally posted it last year but took it down.
> 
> So... yeah. This is essentially a rewrite of KOTFE/KOTET, starring the 'Outlander' as a Zakuulan character completely separate from the original 8 classes. I'll be loosely following the general Outlander storyline while also adding stories for the original 8 to play out in the background.
> 
> Chapter note: Darth Occlus is the name for neutral Sith Inquisitors (as opposed to Nox for dark side and Imperious for light side).

“The others will mope about this,” Darth Occlus said, sounding almost pleased by the thought.  “I expect there will be some ever-so-subtle accusations of treason at the next Council meeting.”

“They lost the right to have a say when they refused to offer their full cooperation,” Marr responded.  Had this been almost anyone else, he would not be so patient in the face of such irreverence.  But despite the half-alien’s eccentricities, recent events had proved that Occlus was the only Dark Councilor he could truly trust – at least as much as one Councilor could trust another.  “I see no reason to mire ourselves in political bickering at such an important juncture.  Between the two of us we can press them into line.”

“People will begin to talk if we keep on like this,” Occlus’s inhuman silver eyes were barely visible in the holo’s blue light, making his mischievous smirk seem almost manic.  “Not that I don’t enjoy a little gossip, mind you, but the more sordid details might fluster my apprentices.”

Marr pointedly pretended not to hear.  “Has the Reclamation Service found anything of note?”

“You mean besides every single thing on Yavin?”  As if on cue there was a muted thud in the background and the distinctive sound of a Dashade’s roar.  Occlus glanced over his shoulder, heaved a long-suffering sigh, and turned back to Marr with a wry expression even as the roars were joined by horrified screams.  “Nothing immediately obvious.  I have my best teams looking at some promising rituals, but since we’re trying to avoid multidimensional accidents I’m afraid progress is… slow.”

“Any progress is welcome,” Marr shoved down his disappointment. They hadn't had much luck in pursuing Vitiate, though with recent developments the ex-Cipher Nine had promised to personally look into what what could've drawn their former Emperor to the depths of Wild Space.  Marr had hoped that Occlus, camped on Yavin 4 with almost the entirety of the Imperial Reclamation Service, would have something solid for him to focus on as they waited for more information.  “Keep me updated.”

“Of course,” Occlus gave him a half-mocking, half-respectful salute.  The commotion in the background had died down almost as quickly as it started, though Marr could still hear faint growls and whimpers drifting over the speaker.  “I trust the Republic hasn’t been giving you too much trouble?”

“Our troops know better than to defy my orders.  Their troops respect the Jedi and follow their lead.”

“And the Jedi?”

“Have seen for themselves what Vitiate is capable of.  I do not doubt they are determined to see this through.”

“Hm.  I’ll take your word for it,” Occlus glanced over his shoulder again and made a face.  Sparks of lightning began to coalesce around his fingertips.  “I should say hi to Lord Dead Guy over there before he scares everyone away.  Honestly, it’s like these ancient Sith have no concept of manners at all… I’ll talk to you later, Marr.”

The call ended, and Marr had just enough time to heave a sigh before his console lit up with a second call, this one from his com officer on the other side of the ship.

“The Republic fleet just dropped out of hyperspace, ETA three minutes.  Incoming message from the Jedi, milord – they’re requesting permission to board.”

 

* * *

 

 

“We have contact!”

All heads in the vicinity swiveled towards the large holoscreen projected from the ceiling.  The incoming visuals were unstable, probably due to the probe’s erratic movements as it attempted to stay hidden and out of sensor range, but the foreign empire’s fleet, composed of a strange warship and several smaller freighters, was easy to make out.

“They’ve passed our borders,” the engineer reported, fingers flying across her console as she pulled up readings from patrol drones in the area.  “Prince Arcann will want to know.”

On the other side of the room, Tyras reluctantly shut down the solitaire game he’d been surreptitiously playing on his datapad and looked up to meet his Captain’s amused gaze.

“Sonnac,” the Captain jerked a finger at the door.  “Go inform the prince.”

“Yes sir,” Tyras grabbed his saber pike from where it was propped against the wall, its blue blade humming to life as his fingers closed around the weapon’s shaft.  He decided to leave his helmet on the table – he’d be back once the message was delivered, and getting past throne room security was much easier when the guards could see who he was.

Tyras wasn’t particularly important, but his late father had been one of the royal children’s guards.  Many years ago his father had brought him to play with Arcann and Thexan at the request of their mother, who thought the princes needed more time around kids their own age. 

He didn’t remember much of the ‘playdate’ itself, though his father said the princes had mostly just ignored him and ran off.  The most vivid memory he had from that day was actually of Vaylin, still just a toddler back then, throwing a tantrum and slowly crushing a Knight to death.

Sometimes Tyras still had nightmares about the look on that poor man’s face.

Sometimes the nightmares featured his father in that man’s place.

But nonetheless his superiors had somehow concluded that one day of mostly forgotten childhood interaction made him the perfect liaison with the royal family, so as a result Tyras was a known face amongst Valkorion’s personal guards. 

Some of his friends envied him – after all, to even _glimpse_ any of the royal family in person was a great privilege.  For the most part Tyras did agree with them – like all Zakuulans, there was no one he respected and looked up to more than Emperor Valkorion and Prince Arcann (and of course Prince Thexan, may he rest in peace) – but he couldn’t help feeling a looming sense of trepidation whenever he approached the throne room. 

 

A few minutes later he stepped off the lift and practically crashed into the source of that trepidation.

“Hello,” Vaylin said pleasantly, easily swerving aside.  “Delivering a message to my brother?”

Tyras flailed inelegantly as he tried to simultaneously move away and brace himself for a collision that never came.  “Y-yes, your highness.  I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention…”

“Apologize for what, that?  It was just a little stumble,” the princess smiled, a sweet expression that didn’t quite reach her eyes.  “Arcann’s in the antechamber.  I trust you remember the way.”

“I do,” Tyras finally wrangled himself into a respectable stance and saluted.  The corridor was completely straight, with the lift at one end and the throne room plus antechamber at the other.  It would be difficult to get lost.  “Thank you, your highness.”

Vaylin hummed, wiggling her fingers over her shoulder as she stepped into the lift and pressed a button.  The doors slid shut and Tyras let out a relieved breath as he felt the princess move rapidly away.

No one really knew what happened to Vaylin, who’d suddenly disappeared one day and returned… diminished.  Of course she was still powerful, but Tyras wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to constantly risk encountering her if she was still anything like that child he remembered.

 

Arcann’s imposing presence washed over Tyras as he approached the antechamber doors, which were unexpectedly open, and knocked precisely on the doorframe.  Arcann himself was pacing back and forth before the doors to the throne room.  He looked up at Tyras’s entrance, his visible eye narrowed in thought.

“Prince Arcann,” Tyras bowed.  “The probe has made contact with a fleet of unknown design, presumably originating from a civilization in the Outlands.  As of approximately five minutes ago they’ve intruded on Zakuulan space.”

Arcann turned to face him fully, hands clasped behind his back.  “Knight Sonnac.  Your father was a Knight as well, correct?  One of Thexan's personal guard?”

Tyras blinked, nonplussed by the sudden shift in topic.  “Um… uh, yes.  That is correct, your highness.”

“Knight Captain Sonnac, who was killed during our excursion into the Core Worlds,” Arcann said thoughtfully.  He resumed his pacing, though he kept his eye fixed on Tyras.  “And what of your mother?  Your siblings?”

“My mother died when I was young and Vanat’s – my sister’s – talents led her to the Scions,” Tyras said slowly.  “Um.  I apologize if I’m being too forward, my prince, but is there a reason for this line of questioning?”

“The Scions…” Arcann briefly closed his eye, growling something under his breath.  Then he nodded sharply and gestured for Tyras to follow him.  “No matter, you’ll do well enough.  Come, let us inform the Emperor of this foreign fleet.”

“Y-yes, of course...”

 

Many years later, Tyras would look back at that moment and berate himself for following so readily.  But despite his confusion at the time, the thought of refusing had never even crossed his mind – after all, he was merely a Knight and it wasn’t his place to question.


End file.
